Sad But True
by Depravity
Summary: A rather small and short fic taking place after the 3rd Path of Zappa in the game GGX2. My own little take on the strange but sweet average joe as well as some made up history and insight into him.


Author's Notes:The action in this fic takes place, sort of, in three different places/times. Normal type is taking place in the "present day". Bold type is what is being written in the diary. Italics type is what had taken place in the past, but it is not being remembered, just being shown to the reader. Enjoy.

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Sad But True

by Johnny O'Brien

The sounds of the police station were muffled and almost nonexistent at this time of night. What light he had in the cell came from the nearby guard's desk and the single bulb in the ceiling at the center of his large cell. This one wasn't used very often unless they had a prisoner who had to be kept away from others. It was an isolation cell. It had taken him hours and hours of begging and pleading but finally they had conceded to give him his diary and his pen back. He had settled down against the bars to take advantage of the light and had begun to write then.

"**Dear Mother,**

**It has been a couple of weeks since my last time writing to you. I hope that this finds you well and in good health still. I hope my writing has kept you company this past year in my absence. I am sorry that I left, but I know you understand my need to find a cure for this sickness. I've met some very interesting people these last few days and I've been to many places. I met a young girl who I think was a pirate. She was rather cute in her little pirate outfit. I thought she might have known something about Doctor Faust but, I was wrong."**

_He had been feeling odd all day and couldn't figure it out for the life of him why. It was such a lovely day and he'd done what he always did on the weekends. He'd gone out for the long walk into the city to his favorite park and met with his friends there for dancing. There was going to be another rave tonight and he wouldn't have missed it for the world. Especially since she was going to be there, Cally was the name she had given him. He thought she might be the one he was looking for; the woman he could spend the rest of his life with._

_But the odd feeling was still with him all day and into the early evening. It felt like someone was looking at him...no, staring at him is what it felt like. He could almost feel hatred in that strange invisible gaze. He shook his head to try to banish the image and listened to Mother in the next room humming an old dance tune she had played for him in the crib. He smiled and looked back to the mirror as he smoothed the front of his short. There was a dark shape behind him and a discolored hand resting upon his shoulder. Then there was nothing._

He paused in his writing to look up and across the room at the small window which let in some faint moonlight. He'd been in jail a few days now, mostly recovering from his wounds. He had been in bad shape when he first arrived, but most of his wounds were close to healed now. The doctor who had treated him was a little impressed at his healing time. He must have been mistaken about his arm being broken because it certainly wasn't now. He tested it again to make sure and returned to writing in his diary.

"**There was a man with a British accent I met and he knew where the doctor was I think but I blacked out before he could tell me and when I woke up someone had beaten him up. He was unconscious and couldn't talk. I got him to medical attention or at least on his way there and I ran. I was scared that whoever had hurt that man might come after me next. Sometimes Mother the cities can be such dangerous places. I wish I could come home and be with you again."**

_Zappa's Mother almost had a heart attack at the sudden scream from the next room. It wasn't a scream of pain, it was pain. And it had sounded just like her son. She rose to her feet unsteadily and moved across the floor to the small door; she lifted a hand and knocked. There was no sound from within the room and no answer to her call from within. She had to work up the courage and fight off a hundred horrid imaginings for what she might find in there before she could open the door._

_Inside it was worse than what she had thought it could ever be. Her son was sprawled on the floor only the whites of his eyes were showing. He'd had another seizure and this one was fatal. After the first one she had taken him to the doctor's but they could find nothing wrong with him. There was no physical cause. She didn't want to think he was going crazy so she hadn't even bothered with a psychiatrist at all. Now she wished she had her poor son was gone._

_Then he moved onto his hands and his feet, but upside down as if he were crab-walking. His head hung upside down and his face was deathly pale. Though his eyes showed only white they felt as if they were looking right at her. The worst part was the wicked sneer upon his lips. That sneer did not belong to her son but to someone, to something else. She whispered his name, wanting to go and care for him but being too scared to move. The voice that came from his lips was his own though it was mixed together with the voice of some woman she had never heard before. It said only one thing._

"_DIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!"_

He set the pen down for a moment to massage his hand. His writing was more printing really and each letter was done so carefully on the page that his hand cramped often when he wrote. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them again to find the guards had changed all of a sudden and the bars were bent. He was lying on his bed as well. That was odd...had someone tried to break into his cell. As he sat up he winced at a big purple bruise on his arm. Someone had tried to break in and attack him. A new surge of fear welled up inside him. Whoever had beaten that British man must have come into the police station to try and kill him. But the police had caught him and locked him up elsewhere. He found his diary and his pen again, underneath the bed and a little banged up now. He found the page he was writing on and continued.

"**I met a pair of Japanese as well Mother. I was amazed at how exotic they looked. One was a woman and she looked very pretty, even missing an arm and an eye. She was full of confidence in herself I could only envy. I think she was a warrior, like the samurai of old Japan you always hear stories about. The other was a man who was a fan dancer but he never stayed around long enough to show me any of his acts. I think the lady knew something about Doctor Faust but she never told me."**

_He woke up and sat up quickly regretting it as the pain in his head and neck made it apparent. He cringed in pain and clutched at his neck. The skin felt almost like it had been cut or torn as well as having been bent at an awkward angle. He pulled his hands away and blinked, seeing blood upon them...his skin had been cut. How had that happened? What had happened to him...he remembered getting ready for the rave and then...nothing. He must have blacked out again...had one of his odd seizures as his mother called them. He blinked and slowly got to his feet to look around the kitchen._

_Where was Mother and how had he gotten into the kitchen? What was going on? He wandered out onto the porch and frowned as he looked around. No sign of mother in her garden either. He turned and went back inside, calling out for his mother as he began to search the house. He found her in her bedroom. Her vanity mirror had been nailed to the wall by its wooden frame. His mother had been nailed over top of it so that her head and her blood soaked hair were reflected by it. The light from the window of the morning sun made her look like an angel, complete with halo of light. But no angel had ever had their heart eaten from their body._

_He blacked out again, this time from far more mundane means._

He shifted around and lay on the bed on his stomach to keep the pressure off his bruised arm. He rubbed at his eyes a bit and frowned. It was getting hard to concentrate. All these blackout spells must finally have been too much for him. His body was trying to readjust its sleeping pattern. He shook his head and continued to write.

"**I met a musician after that Mother. I think she was a famous rock star because she sure looked like one. She had a really aggressive personality, but don't worry because I didn't do anything to be ashamed of. After that my illness was taking its toll, and it was then I met a police officer. I know I passed out then and I think I fell on the officer. When I woke up I was in jail for jumping him. I think he is a kind man however and when he realizes the mistake he'll be sure to let me go. I'd like to write more Mother but this is the last page in this diary so until next time, take care and live well Mother.**

**From Your Loving Son, Zappa"**

_Zappa woke again and yawned, sitting up as the train rattled its way across the rails towards the capitol city and the airport. He'd said goodbye to Mother and had given her a hug and a kiss, and she returned the loving favor. He promised he would continue to write in his diary and that he would send her them when they were full so she could know what was happening with her son in the big wide world. They had reached a decision that Zappa needed to find the best doctor in the world so he could be diagnosed and hopefully cured of his affliction. They had found a name. Doctor Faust. He had purchased a ticket and was on his way into the world to find this miracle doctor._

_He hoped Mother wouldn't be too lonely in that house all by herself. At least she had his diaries to keep her company and he had her spirit with him always. One day soon he'd find the Doctor and be cured and then he would go home and take his Mother out dancing like they used to when he was little._

He got a scrap of paper from the guard at the desk and wrote down his home address on it before he begged the guard to please take his diary to the Captain and ask if he would see it mailed to that address. His Mother was home alone and was expecting it to arrive soon so she could know what had happened to her son. He had to beg more but the guard finally agreed when his coffee cup ran low and he left the room to get it refilled and go to the captain about this odd request. He'd know what to do with this diary. Alone on his cell Zappa watched him leave and sighed, before he turned towards his bed. He needed a nice long sleep so he could relax.

He suddenly jerked and fell forwards grabbing the bars with his hands. Tears rolled from his eyes as he snapped about more until all that was holding his body up was his own hands. He opened his eyes as tears ran free from those oddly blank orbs. In the air around him a shimmering filled the air and spun in circles passing through the bars in and out of the cell. Zappa's head lifted and he spoke in a whispering voice that echoed unnaturally, as if two voices were speaking in near perfect harmony. The shimmering grew more solid and moved to the hinges of the cell door, surrounding and spinning. The pins, thick and heavy, which held the door in place slowly, one by one, were pulled from their resting places to fall on the ground. Zappa yanked the door free and let it fall to the ground inside the cell. He stumbled out of the cell and down past the desk of the guard, heading for the emergency exit at the far end of a corridor Zappa was too weak to fight now...he needed the time to rest and gather his strength. So he was lead down and away from confrontation. It was best to run away now and let him live to fight again later. The captain would be very angry with Zappa...but that was the captain's business....not hers.

The End


End file.
